


Of Biscuits and Kisses and Weights on Jack's Shoulders

by CollingwoodGirl



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst, Baking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Parlour Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollingwoodGirl/pseuds/CollingwoodGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a tried and true method of dealing with his insomnia. Phryne's works better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Biscuits and Kisses and Weights on Jack's Shoulders

**Author's Note:**

> For babsmd and everyone else who was snowed in this weekend.
> 
> Constructive criticism, as always, is welcome.

She pulled her embroidered black dressing gown more tightly around her to ward off the chill of the room and wordlessly tucked in beside him on the chaise longue.

"Sorry, Phryne," he whispered, his voice low and gruff with the late hour.

She hummed sleepily, nuzzling into his neck. "You're warm."

Jack wrapped an arm around her and tugged her closer. "I couldn't sleep."

"I have remedies for that."

"Your remedies have a funny way of keeping me up most of the night, Miss Fisher," he retorted with a knowing grin. "Besides, you looked so content, I didn't want to wake you."

"Darling man," she breathed, slipping a hand behind his head to brush against the velvet grain of his hair. "I'm here now." She warily eyed the small plate of crumbs, the half-empty glass of milk on the carved table that normally proffered their draught board. "What's troubling you?"

He leaned into her touch... It was tender and reassuring and tempting all at once. They didn't often talk about the War, but they had traded enough stories over the years for Jack to be able to imagine her behind the wheel of her ambulance... Her hands the conduit, bending metal and rubber to her will even in the most desperate conditions. She now used those same hands to extract his own untapped reserves... And it made his heart swell and pang.

She nudged his jaw with the tip of her nose and cupped her palm over his heart, allowing her fingertips to slide between the modest slats of his pyjama top. "Jack?"

He made no reply... Only covered her hand that rested against his chest with his own. Then he dipped his head and kissed her.

He was kissing her slowly and thoroughly and she felt him beginning to melt into her as the space between their bodies contracted. Phryne noted the neat circumvention of her question but did not press the subject. Jack felt things deeply, a quality with which she could relate, but he had a very different way of processing them. Oblique observation seemed the best course for now.

"Mmm. You taste heavenly," she murmured, lushly licking the corner of his mouth. "Does Mister Butler know about your midnight raids on his kitchen?"

"He must. He's rearranged the pantry so all the biscuit ingredients are right in front."

She laughed, further dislodging her sleep-rumpled hair. Mister Butler was almost as delighted with the Inspector's regular presence in her home as she was, though he was far too polite to say so.

"What did you put in them this time?"

"Coconut," he tittered a bit sheepishly.

"Covert baking," she clucked, pulling herself into his lap. "Honestly, Jack Robinson... My never ending source of mystery." Phryne wrapped herself around him and cradled his soft face in her hands, tilting his chin so she could look into the pools of his eyes... The dusty cornflower colour telegraphed his distress. But if he wasn't ready to talk, she could at least soothe his worry for a while.

Her lips brushed his, teasing him closer but never consummating the promised kiss until he growled and softly bit her bottom lip. She plundered his mouth with determination, intent to reacquaint herself with every texture, ridged and supple and soft, to savour the sweetness of his breath as it drifted over her skin. She rolled her hips against him and captured his rumble so the vibration could travel down her spine as well. The next time she ventured to look, his gaze was a satisfying thunderhead grey.

"How is it, Miss Fisher, that after resisting your charms for so long, I now find the prospect quite impossible?"

"Simple," she replied with an arched shoulder. "Because now you know I'm in love with you."

"Hmm." With an easy confidence, he tugged at the satin belt until her gown parted to reveal a column of ivory skin before him.

At first it was her company and friendship he craved... Then, eventually, her embrace and affection... She was always his shelter in the storm, even when she, herself, was in the very eye of it.

His hands splayed wide across her belly, bringing to mind the image of a butterfly. His thumbs were parallel to each other and pressed gently against her diaphragm, his palms fitted in the neat carve of her obliques, while his fingertips spread like wings feathering along the lower crease of her breasts, outward over her ribs and sides in a tantalizing tease.

Ever so slowly, he moved upwards until he was palming her nipples and dancing over her collarbones and the delicate structure of her throat, his thumbs planted between her breasts and scratching lightly at her skin.

"Jaaack. Oh Jack," she hummed, nails digging at his shoulders. "Have I mentioned lately how fond I am of your hands?"

He chuckled darkly and leaned in to press a kiss to her navel. "I share the sentiment. Though you should feel free to express it as often as you like."

"Lower!"

Spanning the width of her hips, he pressed lightly into her lower abdomen and rotated his thumbs to slip into the silken channel that was hot and wet and ready for him. The moan that met him as he stroked her wiped all concern from his mind... Obliterated every thought except for how he might please her, how he might hear that sound again.

Phryne clawed at his chest, undoing the buttons in a frenzy, desperate for his skin. When he grazed her clitoris with his thumbnail, she keened again. "Jack! You'll make me wake the household!"

Coherent enough to register that she had not closed - much less locked - the parlour doors, his answer was to cover her mouth with his and do it again.

"Enough!" she whispered hotly and sunk her teeth into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, a maneuver that made his entire body surge forward to meet her. She seized the opportunity and roughly yanked his pyjamas down past his hips, sinking onto him with relief.

"You're such a lovely tease, Inspector," she crooned, undulating over him in long, lazy circles. "Shall I return the favor?"

"Nngh..." His head lolled back against the frame.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Her hands were suddenly everywhere... In his hair, fondling his chest, his balls. She rode him until he was flush and panting with the exertion of holding back in order to prolong his torment... Beyond the brink of his sanity.

When she slowed to grind against him once more, he forced her hand between them and threw his arm around her waist to steady her as he thrust up with deep, meaningful strokes. He caught a drop of her sweat from her jaw with the tip of his tongue and licked hungrily into the hollow beneath her ear. Feeling her thighs begin to tremble, he realized just how close she must be.

This was his favorite part, one he never took for granted... Watching her shatter. Sometimes it was quiet, a silent release of tension and nerves. Sometimes it was loud, a celebration of the pleasure they shared together. Other times brought unexpected laughter... Even tears. But every time, he was certain it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

The sensation of his mouth on her throat, his hand over her spine, his fingers pressing hers tight against her clitoris, his cock thick and tight within her... She couldn't hold back any longer. "I'm going to... Come with me... Please."

He bit his lip, nodding in acquiescence, and managed to hold on just long enough to witness the first shards of orgasm break across her face.

\-------------------------------------

They managed to drag themselves back up the stairs some time later, a plate of Jack's biscuits balanced in Phryne's hand. She divested them of their nightwear and thanked the heavens for her hot water tap as they tidied up at the sink of her en suite bathroom, cherishing the sleepy smirk she received when she paid him some extra attention with the warm flannel.

Tucking Jack into the luxurious bedclothes, she hoped he would be dozing within moments. He was already rolled up, an arm outstretched to receive her in her usual repose. But before she could douse the burnished light of the nymph lamp, she saw the worry tugging at his brow once more. Phryne clicked off the lamp but didn't climb in on her side. Instead, she circled the bed.

He felt her crawl up the length of his back until her position allowed her to fish her arm beneath his neck to support his head. Her breath pitched against the helix of his ear. The softness of her breasts pressed into his shoulder blades as she held him tight. He felt her curls tickling his spine as her knees hooked under his bottom, spooning him from behind.

They laid there in silence for long minutes. Jack thought it pushed the limits of his modernity to allow himself to feel so cherished and yet, he found himself nudging closer, sighing deeply when she threaded her fingers in his hair. His body would not allow him to deny that he had longed for this kind of closeness.

When her arm became limp and relaxed around him, Jack finally spoke. "Collins nearly died today." He felt her tighten at this unexpected news, but she remained where she was.

"Dot never said a word."

"She wouldn't have. In fact, I don't think even he knew just how close he came." He shook his head, as if chastising Collins in his mind would help ease the pain.

"But how-"

"I managed to disarm the bastard before he could squeeze off the shot. It was fool's luck."

"Not a fool," she said earnestly. "It was you."

"You weren't there, Phryne," he gritted. "We had no knowledge of a third assailant. I was in the wrong place at the right time. ...I can't stop thinking about what might have happened if I hadn't been."

"It's a dangerous job, Jack. Hugh knows that. He's not a child."

"That's just it! He's someone's husband... Dot's husband." Jack took her hand between his for courage to say what he'd been thinking all afternoon. "He'll be someone's father before long."

"...And we'll be there to congratulate him. You care about him, Jack, of course you're unnerved. But you can't protect him forever."

"But what if-"

At that, she turned him to face her and pressed a finger to his lips. "If you're this worried, Jack, then do something about it. Train him harder. His investigative skills have come leaps and bounds but his surveillance tactics need work and so do his-"

"I think I know my Senior Constable's limitations better than you, Miss Fisher."

"I'm glad to hear it," she taunted, happy to hear the fight back in his voice. "So keep him safe by helping him to be the second best officer the Victoria Constabulary has ever seen. I'll even take him to the range for target practise."

Jack knew there was wisdom in her words, and he was touched by her willingness to speak so honestly with him... Though he opted to ignore her last suggestion for the sake of his own sanity. "I'll do that." He would draw up the schedule tomorrow.

She smoothed her thumb over his cheekbone, razor sharp even in darkness. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. But I am very, very grateful that you were there... In the wrong place, at the right time."

Throat suddenly tight, he pulled her close and nodded, nesting his nose into her hair.

When he trusted his voice enough to speak again, he simply had to inquire. "Second best?"

"I'm terribly fond of Hugh, Inspector. But he'll never have anything on you." Her eyes were sparkling at him and, despite the hour and his exhaustion, all he wanted to do was hold her and kiss her until the sun came up.

"I do love you, you know," he murmured, pressing his lips to her shoulder. "I don't say it as often as I should."

"I know. Now kiss me again."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It is in my headcanon, like so many others, that Jack bakes. Sorry, not sorry.  
> During this recent snowmageddon, I baked a batch of eggless biscuits that reminded me immediately of Jack's secret stash. Here's the recipe for approx. 2 dozen:
> 
> Jack's Coconut Oatmeal Biscuits  
> Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  
> 1 c. quick cooking oats  
> 1 c. flour  
> 2/3 c. sugar  
> 1/2 c. shredded unsweetened coconut  
> 1/2 tsp. baking powder  
> 1/2 tsp. baking soda  
> 1/4 tsp. salt  
> Mix dry ingredients thoroughly.  
> 1/2 c. melted butter or margarine  
> 5 Tbsp. milk of any kind (including non-dairy)  
> 1 tsp. vanilla  
> Mix wet ingredients together then slowly add to dry, stirring to incorporate. If your dough isn't coming together, add up to 2 more Tbsp of milk.  
> Spoon dough onto parchment-lined baking sheets, a tablespoon or two depending on how big you like your biscuits ;)  
> Bake for 15 minutes. Let cool then imagine Jack kissing you as you eat one.
> 
> (Disclaimer: I also added a few chocolate chips to mine, but that would be an anachronism in 1929-30. What can I say? I like to live dangerously.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
